


Photoshoot

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Pictures, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first photoshoot together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photoshoot

**Author's Note:**

> not beta'd

Shuichi is reasonably nervous. Shuichi is never nervous about photoshoots because he's great at them. He grins and makes the camera men crack up and fails at flirting with the interviewers and everyone always thinks he's adorable. Besides, when he's with his band, Hiro's there to hit him upside the head when he's being too much of the class clown. This is going to be Shuichi's first photoshoot with Yuki. It's for, what Yuki's manager is phrasing as "an official coming out" publicity stunt. Shuichi still believes all publicity is good publicity, and it's not like everyone doesn't already know that Shuichi and Yuki are a thing, but, Shuichi really doesn't want to screw this up. So he spins around in his make up chair extra fast. It makes the world blur enough that Shuichi doesn't really have to think about it. That is until Yuki grabs the arm, and Shuichi, dizzily almost falls out of the chair. 

"Stop that!" Yuki glares. Shuichi pouts, but his eyes are probably crossing a little. Shuichi's about to respond, probably something petulant and childish that will make Yuki roll his eyes, but the make-up team breezes through the door instead. Shuichi's used to the poking and prodding by now. He closes his eyes and leans back against the chair. It's almost relaxing. They're not *his* make up team, of course, but the feel of the brushes and gels is similar enough. Shuichi hopes they're not actually putting him in stage make up, because that stuffs hideous from up close.

Shuichi peers through his lashes at Yuki. Yuki's stiff as a board in his chair, cagely eyeing the man trying to attack his face with a powder brush. Yuki isn't used to this at all. He can roll out of bed, look gorgeous and go to a book signing where he alternately glares and fake smiles at hoards of horny women who wouldn't care if he was literally snarling at them, as long as he met their eyes. Shuichi reaches out a hand, slowly, so as not to disturb the process of make up, and taps two fingers against Yuki's arm. Yuki's eyes dart over. Shuichi smiles slightly, shrugs one shoulder and Yuki huffs out a sigh. He relaxes and shifts his arm to curl fingers against Shuichi's. Thinking about this moment will make Shuichi's insides warm for the rest of the week. 

After make up there's wardrobe. They can't of course be shot in the clothes they walked in off the street in. Again it's something Shuichi has grown accustomed too and Yuki edges about warily. This time Shuichi's the one who pokes Yuki in the side and hisses,  
"Stop that!" Yuki glares but Shuichi's unaffected, "they'll market the clothes you're wearing so it has to be brand name."  
"I am wearing brand name clothes," Yuki points out.  
"Yes, and you look great. They're going to make you look perfect. It's an image thing. If you hate the clothes you can tell them to alter it slightly." Shuichi shrugs, "but trust me, they know what they're doing."  
Yuki still looks wary, but he accepts the pile of shirts the woman in charge of wardrobe hands him and turns without protest when she twirls her finger toward the fitting area behind the curtain.  
"We'll take pictures of you individually first." The director says watching the proceedings. "Yuki first I think." Shuichi nods his agreement. He moves to stand just out of frame, as the director ushers Yuki to stand in front of the fake bookshelves in the mock-library. Yuki's shirt is nicer now, a purple button down open enough to show off his collar bones, sleeves rolled up mid arm to show the flex of muscle. 

Yuki doesn't work out, probably has less muscle mass than Shuichi who spends enough time training for dancing in his music videos and concerts that he has a decent layer of muscle and more stamina than what Yuki aquires from his sedentary life style. Of course, Yuki can get away with sitting around, where as Shuichi finds it hard to sit still ever. That might have something to do with it. But, really, it's Yuki's pants that are worth looking at. Yuki rarely ever wears jeans. It's like he took professional-casual to heart, slacks, and button downs are basically all he owns. Well that and two, rather ratty t-shirts he wears whenever Shuichi convinces him that they are actually going running, or cleaning the house. Shuichi may or may not have indecent dreams about how those shirts are slightly too-tight and cling to Yuki's body. 

The jeans are also too tight, but in a really, really excellent way. They don't quite look painted on, there's enough wrinkle to look casual, but they certainly highlight some positive features. Shuichi swallows, but does not stop his blatant staring. Yuki's paying attention to the camera crew anyway. He turns, reaching for a book as directed. His shirt rides up a little, showing the strip of skin above his pants, the really excellent curve of his ass. Shuichi is filled with proprietary pleasure. No matter how hot all the people buying this magazine think Yuki is (and he is, really hot) Shuichi's going to take him home, well, ride in the passenger seat and sing along with the radio on-key and then probably fail at making dinner so spectacularly Yuki takes over and it will be delicious. 

They have Yuki go through a variety of poses, sitting in an overstuffed arm chair, end table stacked high with his books, hands on a polished wood table, leaning toward the camera. Shuichi can't get a great read on Yuki's face from his perspective, but he can imagine the intensity of his stare, the way he's leaning into his hands, like maybe he could leap over the table at the right provocation. Shuichi's been on the receiving end of that look, for both positive and negative reactions. Shuichi grins.

The director finishes talking with Yuki and waves Shuichi over.  
"We'll do your solo shots next." The director points. "We'll have the set ready when you're done changing." The costume the wardrobe wrangler hands him thankfully has less straps than his last large photo shoot. Shuichi can at least get this piece on by himself. The tight, bubblegum pink tank top is just a shade or two off Shuichi's hair but it doesn't clash. It's paired with tight black skinny jeans that take a while to wriggle all the way up over his hips, though they still sit almost disturbingly low, leaving a good three or four inches from where the tank top ends at his waist. Shuichi vogues for the mirror and decides that being a rockstar is about being indecent so whatever. Besides the black leather jacket makes him look far more badass. Shuichi doesn't spend a lot of time portraying badass. Mostly he's portraying spastic, flamboyantly supergay, or occasionally, boy-next-door cute in the one video he agreed to dye his hair back to it's natural black and put on those stupid glasses. Shuichi decides that he'll wear the high top shoes with pink racing stripes that do match his hair, without lacing up the black shoelaces. It gives the whole look a sloppy edge, like it is really his natural state. 

"Where do you want me?" Shuichi asks, bouncing over to the director. He can't suppress a grin at Yuki's utterly lavacious look. They've set up a fake stage, lights and speakers, a microphone stand. Shuichi can totally work with this. They have him make out with the microphone for a little while, which is par for the course in music photoshoots. Shuichi keeps his eyes on Yuki, when they're not asking him to look into the camera, because Yuki hasn't seen this before. Yuki probably hasn't even bothered to look at the magazines Shuichi keeps in a reasonably neat stack in his office. Shuichi likes looking over his photo shoots and interviews, because while he can be an idiot and sometimes the magazines exploit that, the camera loves Shuichi.  
"Okay, now take you jacket off part way" the director calls. Shuichi follows direction well, another reason he likes photo shoots. When it's just Shuichi, interviewing on a talk show, or walking down the street, he's just as likely to face plant against a street light, or stick his foot in his mouth. When he's performing he already has the lyrics, has practiced the moves. He's perfect, high on the rush of adrenaline and the crowd. Photo shoots are almost the same. Shuichi knows his grin is sharp, probably not-quite-sexy, but as he slowly peels back the jacket he can feel Yuki's eyes track the movement, sees the clench of Yuki's jaw, the slight tightening of his hands against the fabric of his ridiculous jeans. 

"Good!" The director nods, now turn, three quarters." Shuichi does, leaning back, letting his arms, still incased in the jacket fall back behind him, and arching his neck against the blast of air from one of the industrial fans blowing his hair back from his face. They have him abandon the leather jacket, and his shoes to take a few pictures of Shuichi doing chin-ups barefoot. Shuichi can do more chin ups now than he'd ever been able to pull off for high school P.E., but it still feels like a silly thing to do for a photo shoot, he can't really hold the position well. The camera crew snaps away but Shuichi doesn't let it break his concentration. He almost expects the director to continue with "drop to the floor and give me 20" but he doesn't seem to have that sense of humor. Instead he motions Shuichi back off set.  
"Alright, next we'll do the segment with both of you. We'll do two outfits, formal first." They're ushered back toward the changing area. 

Shuichi stares at the suit. It's an ordinary black, sleek and expensive looking. It has tails. Shuichi isn't sure he's ever seriously worn tails for anything. He feels a bit like a conductor, like he should be anticipating an orchestra when he walks back out to the set. The wardrobe mistress beams at him when she sees him. She tucks a pink boutonnière against his breast. Well, there's his signature color. She pats him on the shoulder and steps back. The set behind her is decorated with flowers and white lace table clothes, on round tables, and what seems to be a cleared dance floor. One of the tables holds what looks suspiciously like a wedding cake. Shuichi stares. Yuki steps up behind him with a muttered,  
"Seriously." Shuichi nods in silent agreement, but the director's waving them over.

"Alright, you're first we're going to have you dance together." he motions to the floor, "do either of you dance formally." Shuichi laughs. They've had formal dance lessons, if only at Mika's insistence for attending her charity ball with Tohma. It was something of a disaster but at least they can present a skilled turn about the floor. Shuichi offers up his hand and Yuki's palm comes to rest firm against his shoulder blade. They waltz backwards onto the set and Shuichi can't help giggling slightly because Yuki's face. He looks a bit akin to sucking on a lemon.  
"Is it the wedding cake?" Shuichi asks, sotto voice. Yuki's eye twitches. "It's not necessarily are wedding. Photo shoots are about pretend right. Maybe we met at your sisters wedding. Tohma is my boss after all, maybe I caught that bouquet and your eye too and the rest is history." Yuki looks incredulous and dips Shuichi almost to the floor with consternation. At least he doesn't look pissy anymore. Shuichi laughs.

Shuichi has to admit, Yuki looks good in a suit. It's not black like Shuichi's, though he wouldn't have known that without seeing the two fabrics against each other. It's a deep, dark plum, with the same, sharp sleek lines, snappy against his white shirt. Yuki doesn't have tails, Shuichi notes. He does however, have cuff links that spark against the light. Shuichi fiddles with one, where Yuki's hand rests on the table between them. It is a little much having them eat actual slices of cake. The cakes delicious though, and Shuichi's not really complaining. Yuki wants too, but the camera's are close enough he's keeping his mouth polite. Shuichi stabs a fork at it.  
"Open wide!" Yuki closes his teeth around it like he wishes it were Shuichi's finger, definitely hard enough to draw blood. Shuichi smirks and takes a moment to lean in rubbing an invisible bit of cake off of Yuki's cheek. Yuki doesn't bite of his finger. His eyes are hot on Shuichi's face, and really the cameras probably can't tell the difference between "I'm going to kill you later" and "I'm going to fuck you later" when for Yuki when it comes to Shuichi it's often both feelings whole heartedly at once. If Shuichi leaned over the table to kiss him he'd get cake on his shirt. He squeezes Yuki's hand instead, smiles when Yuki's expression softens that fraction, grins into the click of the camera shutters.

They get a shot of Shuichi by him self, catching a flying bouquet the flowers are white and purple, orchids and roses, some baby's breath. It takes him a few tries, fumbling the bouquet and turning this way and that. Yuki's solo shot is of him cutting the wedding cake. Shuichi makes faces at him from off stage. Yuki rolls his eyes, but his expression gets more fondly exasperated rather than disgruntled. The director enthuses from behind the cameras, "Yes that's it, can you smile a little more?" Shuichi crosses his eyes and hooks his pinkies in the corners of his mouth for an exaggerated smile. Yuki grimaces, but the show of teeth does bleed into a true smile. His eyes don't leave Shuichi's and he cuts another perfect slice off the cake. Shuichi places a hand over his heart, rocking backwards on his heels. Yuki doesn't roll his eyes this time, just smiles wider, just a little false as he raises one eyebrow suggestively. Shuichi breaks down laughing because there really isn't a pornographic way to cut a cake and even if Yuki's trying, and Shuichi loves him dearly, he's still failing.

When they're ushered off stage to get into "casual" clothes, Shuichi's thankful. He wonders how they're going to work the mock wedding shots into their interview. The casual clothes are a pair of jeans and a plain cap-sleeve girly T. Shuichi wonders if they're pointedly having him wear girls clothes, but the color's a dark gray contrasting against the lighter blue of the jeans. Maybe they're just going for the fitted look. Yuki's back in jeans as well for this shoot, not the same ones from before, this time they're a little looser, the black denim rolled up at the cuff and hanging from his hips rather than hugging them. He's in a t-shirt two, though his is clearly a guy's shirt, a blue that highlights his eyes. The set is a living room, TV, couches, some touches of art on the walls, a end table with a vase of flowers. The director waves them to sit on the couch.

Yuki sits down slowly, as if testing the couch. He glances back over at the cameras, shifting slightly. Shuichi doesn't bother looking composed but flops onto the couch next to him, half on top of Yuki really. If the point is to look natural, like they're at home, Shuichi will act like it. Shuichi buries his nose into the juncture of Yuki's neck. Yuki's hand comes up automatically to ruffle through his hair.  
"Good!" The director calls. Yuki's hand stills.  
"Don't stop," Shuichi mutters into Yuki's neck, making sure his teeth catch against the skin. Yuki stiffens and Shuichi laughs into the skin warmed by his breath. Shuichi shifts back, slinging his legs over Yuki's instead, arm twining around Yuki's middle. He leans up to Yuki's ear.  
"The camera has no idea what I'm saying. Just look natural. I could be whispering sweet nothings, or talking dirty, or reminding you of the grocery list. That's the point of photo shoots, it's up to the viewer. We're just creating a fantasy to sell clothing." Shuichi whispers, wriggling a bit to get closer against Yuki's side, "and your novels and my music" he adds. "And, then I'll have pictures of myself draped all over you being sold at the grocery store and my sister will call us and leave ranty messages about your virtue, and my mother will cry the next time she sees you and thank you for the wedding pictures. And I," Shuichi takes a moment to lick out at Yuki's ear, which he can do because he's fairly certain Yuki won't extract immediate revenge because there are cameras just over there, but which is playing dirty, he concedes, because there are cameras just over there, "will have really lovely masturbation fodder to keep with me the next time your book tour gets delayed somewhere for a week due to inclement weather." Apparently nibbling at Yuki's ear is going too far because Shuichi finds himself pinned down against the couch, Yuki looming over him.  
"Very nice!" the director calls, "hold it right there." Yuki freezes, leaning down towards Shuichi's mouth. The cameras snap away and circle left for a better angle. Shuichi grins and, after a moment leans up the rest of the way to capture Yuki's lips. If this is really going to be a coming out article, Shuichi is going to kiss Yuki for all the world to see. 

One of the dancing pictures becomes the front of the magazine, but the kiss is the last full-two-page spread. Shuichi buys 12 copies of the magazine because he's probably going to wind up giving one to his mother when she invariably cries on it so much the paper disintegrates, and he's going to give one to Hiro just for torture. The interview is mostly Yuki, possibly because Shuichi doesn't sound as intelligent. They do keep several of his choice quotes, most of them sound a little love struck and goofy in retrospect, but they're all how Shuichi feels, so he's not worried. One of his quotes on the affects of fame on his love life, as a popstar is cut out in bold next to one of the chin-up pictures, which Shuichi finds turned out quite well. He's always liked guy's with cut arms and he's really working it in the picture. Maybe he should cut one out and frame it for Yuki's office. Mostly though, Shuichi just finds himself staring at the picture of them cuddling on the couch. Shuichi hadn't seen Yuki's face. He's turned, head down, cheek resting against Shuichi's hair, Shuichi's face against his neck. They're holding hands, or it looks like they might be, though Shuichi doesn't remember that specifically. Yuki's face is so fond, eyes turned down toward Shuichi, a smile playing about his lips like a secret. Shuichi's seen that expression before, knows it from the moments just before Yuki says the rare words "I love you", as often as not he doesn't say them. But Shuichi recognizes the pattern, knows that look means he's thinking it, even if he doesn't follow through out loud. And here it is, that expression, just for him, out to the entire world. Shuichi wonders if the people choosing the photos for the magazine saw that, somehow could read exactly what the look meant, or maybe they just thought it was a nice composition, the look of contentment on Shuichi's face. The way they seem to be leaning into each other even though there's no room between them. Shuichi may have to buy another few copies of the magazine so he can frame one for the livingroom as well as their bedroom.


End file.
